


this debt

by scepticallyopenminded



Series: 30 Day Lyrics Challenge - 2017 [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Dates, M/M, Sickfic, grad student Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 00:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13019460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/pseuds/scepticallyopenminded
Summary: 5 times Derek and Stiles owed each other, and 1 time they didn't.





	this debt

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a 5+1 fic but never have but here it IS. Also managed to insert fake/pretend relationship trope and some taking-care-sickfic too so I gotta say this is the tropiest thing I've ever written?
> 
> From Something Diabolical by Bloodhound Gang:
> 
> "Each tormented attempt that is made in vain/To evade this debt which is certain to be paid"
> 
> This is such a good and beautiful song and it's meant to be deeper lyrics but I got this idea stuck in my head and couldn't get it out so this is what you get. 
> 
> I really like it so I hope y'all do too!

**1**

“You owe me,” Derek tells Stiles, handing a twenty to the cashier. Stiles just laughs and grins, good-naturedly elbowing Derek.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll spot you next time,” he agrees as the cashier hands back Derek’s change. Derek rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, anyway, shoving the one dollar and eighty-two cents back into his wallet as the cashier hands them their tickets, turning around to grab the popcorn.

It’s not like he expects Stiles to actually pay him back, and both he and Stiles know that. But he also knows that Stiles might actually pay next time they come to the movies because Stiles doesn’t like owing people anyway.

It doesn’t matter, he just feels innately pleased when Stiles jumps a little on the balls of his feet, pulling his hands out of his jacket and grabbing at the giant tub of popcorn the cashier hands over.

 

**2**

“That,” Stiles heaves a breath, glaring at Derek, soaking wet from head to toe and dripping all over his rug, “Is the third time I’ve saved your life _this year_ and it’s only March.”

Derek is _cold_ , and if _he’s_ cold and wet – yeah, he can see Stiles shivering.

“Guest bathroom shower’s yours. I think there’s probably some of your or Scott or Isaac’s clothes around here that’ll fit you,” he says, getting up from where he’d nearly fallen onto one of the stools in the kitchen. Stiles continues to glare but does as told, trudging toward the guest bathroom and leaving a trail of dirty rain water behind him and – Derek’s not going to say anything, because Stiles _did_ save his life. Anyway, Derek’s not much better as he heads up the stairs toward his bathroom; he’s going to have to clean the entire apartment tomorrow.

“You owe me,” Stiles tells him after they’re both showered. He’s in Derek’s kitchen, wearing sweatpants Derek thinks are Isaac’s and a t-shirt that he’s pretty sure is either his or Boyd’s, the way it’s hanging off Stiles’ frame, and making hot cocoa. Derek assumes it helps, because he immediately sips the drink when it’s ready, then sighs happily.

“’s not my fault,” Derek tries, taking a mug as it’s handed to him and heading to the living room. He carefully avoids the wet spot on the rug and sits down on the couch. Stiles follows him, folding himself up in the overstuffed chair that he essentially claimed as his own as soon as Derek had bought it.

“You _attract_ trouble, it’s so your fault,” Stiles counters, grabbing the remote control and turning on the TV.

“Fucking demons,” he continues, flipping through the channels and grasping his cup close to him. Derek rolls his eyes, taking the blanket from the back of the couch and throws it at Stiles. Stiles pauses in his search for something to watch, sending Derek another glare but it’s not harsh, some semblance of fondness in the expression, and takes the blanket, wrapping it around him.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, finally finding something – a Doctor Who rerun, Derek realizes, and fuck yeah, it’s Nine’s season – and snuggling further down into the chair.

 

**3**

Derek walks up to Stiles, a flute of champagne in each hand, delivering one to Stiles who takes it gratefully. He then slides an arm around Stiles’ middle, feeling as Stiles tenses for a moment before relaxing into the touch.

“You owe me,” he mutters through his teeth, smiling at people who pass by.

“I owe you _so much_ ,” Stiles acknowledges, taking a drink, “And there she is.”

Then Stiles is taking Derek by the hand, dragging him over past the dance floor where nobody is actually dancing, everyone milling around and _mingling_ and “making connections” and it’s gross, Derek is so glad he decided not to go to grad school. The fuck did grad students need mixers anyway?

“Melanie!” Stiles says when they get to a tall woman, black hair to the middle of her back and wearing a tight red number.

“Stiles!” she replies, smiling before her grey eyes meet Derek’s. Her smile falters, and she looks back to Stiles.

“This is Derek then?”

“Yeah. Derek, meet Melanie. Melanie, this is Derek, my boyfriend.”

And Derek’s hand tightens around Stiles’ at the word, but he smiles at Melanie, holding out his free hand to shake hers.

“Nice to meet you. Stiles is always talking about you.”

“Is he?” Melanie’s eyes light up at that, and Derek nods tightly. He’s the only one who can hear the soft snort that Stiles releases. He _is_ always talking about her, but it’s more complaining than anything else, mainly about the fact that she’s always trying to ask him out and they have lots of classes together, so he can’t even avoid her. She’s the daughter of one of the board members for the university, and Stiles wants to work for the university when he’s done with his schooling, so he’s worried about just straight up saying “no”.

No, instead Stiles decided to tell her all about this boyfriend he has, and “yours was the first name that popped into my head, Derek!”

Which is why Derek’s here at the mixer, pretending to be the doting boyfriend Stiles has told Melanie, and others of his classmates, about.

“I so owe you,” Stiles breathes to him a moment later as Melanie turns away to pull one of their other classmates into the conversation. He’s grinning, though, and Derek doesn’t want to be here socializing with these smoozing grad students, but at least he’s here with Stiles.

 

**4**

“You owe me,” Stiles moans, dropping into his chair in Derek’s apartment, rubbing his eyes and throwing the flash drive on the coffee table.

“You did this already?” Derek asks, picking the flash drive up. He’d _just_ asked Stiles the previous night, and the only way he’d gotten it all already was –

“I stayed up all night,” Stiles admits, “Had to grade papers anyway, so I went between the two. It sounded urgent when you asked last night. So. Everything the bestiary has on harpies.”

And it _is_ – harpies aren’t to be played with, and from the local supernatural gossip _someone_ in California had summoned a bunch of them, so the pack had to be ready in case they come to Beacon Hills – but Derek still didn’t expect it at least until the next day. He gets his laptop from his bedroom so he can start reading immediately.

Stiles is asleep in his chair by the time Derek gets back to the living room.

 

**5**

“You owe me,” Derek tells Stiles, dropping the bag of medicine, juice, nasal spray, and Kleenexes on Stiles’ couch. Stiles looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes, sniffling.

“You’re the best,” he says, only it comes out more as “You’re the betht,” and Derek snorts, going into the kitchen and placing the other bag on the counter. He pulls out six containers of soup – homemade potato chowder, an old family recipe – and putting five of them in the fridge. The other he puts in the microwave, heating it for a few minutes before grabbing it, a spoon, and two bottles of water and taking them out to Stiles.

“You’re the beeeeeetht,” Stiles repeats, making grabby hands at the soup.

“I know,” Derek agrees, handing it and one bottle of water over before picking up Stiles feet and sitting on the couch, placing Stiles’ feet back on his legs.

“What’re we watching?” he asks, taking a drink of his water.

“Star Trek Ne’t Gen,” Stiles tells him between spoonfuls of soup.

Derek settles in.

 

**+1**

“I know I don’t owe you anything, but I gotta say, I really wanna kiss you for taking me out tonight,” Stiles says when they get to his apartment door, and Derek – well, Derek wasn’t expecting _that_.

They’ve just finished their first date – the first of many, many more, if Derek has anything to say about it, because he’s _just_ gotten Stiles, had finally plucked up the courage to ask him out after years of friendship _two days ago_.

Stiles is smirking at him, like he knows that Derek is surprised and enjoys surprising him, so Derek decides to do it back. He leans in, kisses Stiles, and when he goes to pull away Stiles pulls him back in, kissing him deeper.

“Wanna come in?” he asks when they do eventually pull apart, and somewhere along the way they’d gotten so Stiles is against his apartment door, Derek blocking him in. Derek raises an eyebrow.

“First date?”

Stiles shrugs, exuding confidence like he has been all night and Derek is _glad_ that neither of them is acting particularly different than before. Maybe that’s the beauty of dating your best friend.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” he starts, and Derek – well, he growls at that, and Stiles _laughs_ loudly, happily, and _Derek_ is happy _he’s_ the one who made Stiles have that reaction.

He turns around, unlocks the door, and pulls Derek through it.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at [asocialfoxpaw](http://asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com)
> 
> this is literally exactly 1500 words I had to cut it down from over 1600 so I cut out some parts I liked but weren't necessary and it was sad BUT SO GOES THE CHALLENGE.


End file.
